


Adult Grape Juice

by WordsAreMusicForTheEyes



Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies)
Genre: Awkward Conversations, Bilbo is not entirely comfortably with what he is seeing, But then he surprises you pleasantly at the end, Drunken Flirting, Drunkenness, Elven Wine, F/M, Fili and Kili being cheeky buggers, Hangover, Hot Dwarves, Innuendo, No Smut, Potential 'out of character' moments for Thorin, Propositioning said hot dwarves, Reader turns into a horny pervert when drunk, Sexual Humor, Sitting on some fine Durin sons laps, Thorin being bashful and awkward, Very slightly cracky when you really think about it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-05
Updated: 2017-08-05
Packaged: 2018-12-10 19:17:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11698176
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WordsAreMusicForTheEyes/pseuds/WordsAreMusicForTheEyes
Summary: You decide to indulge in some elven wine during your meal in Rivendell, not heeding the warnings of its strength from your travelling companions.What ensues is a series of deeply inappropriate propositions and flirtations with a certain trio of handsome dwarves, inevitable embarrassments the following morning and a very pleasantly surprising conclusion to a conversation with the leader of the Company...





	Adult Grape Juice

**Author's Note:**

> So, here's a cheeky little oneshot that I had lurking in my documents folder. I've been a bit hesitant about uploading it because I intially thought it was bilge :'D but, lo and behold, I started becoming rather fond of it. It's probably still self-indulgent pap, but it's vaguely enjoyable self-indulgent pap...and that makes all the difference! XD
> 
> Also, to those of you who've been following my Fili fic 'Damned Apples', worry not- I'm still working on that bonus chapter, I just want to be sure it's the best it can be. I want it to be the loveliest, fluffiest, most heart-warming epilogue possible! :D
> 
> Anyways, I do hope you enjoy this... even if it is a tad trashy :'D

As the evening drew on, you knew that the Company of Thorin Oakenshield was beginning to wear thin on the hospitality of the elves of Rivendell. You made a valiant effort to show regard and respect for the ethereal beings, but your actions were rather overshadowed by the antics of the dwarves.

Initially the cheer and merriment had been enjoyable, until they began hurling food at one another and singing bawdy tunes; at which point, you found yourself hunkering down in your seat.

In order to stave off the feeling of discomfort, you would distract yourself with sips of the fine elven wine that had been so gracefully served to you. Needless to say, the sips became frequent and your goblet was soon empty. Politely asking a nearby elf-maid for a refill of wine, you soon had Balin warning you.

“Careful, lass, elf wine is potent, especially for a human. You don't want to be drinking too much of that,” he said.

“I'll have just a little more. I'm sure a second goblet won't turn me into a drunken fool,” you lightly brushed off the old dwarf's cautionary remark.

 

“You'd be surprised,” Fili piped up, smirking. You scoffed at him, throwing him a defiant glare whilst drinking from your full goblet. Once you'd taken a very generous sip, you set your goblet down on the table.

“I feel perfectly fine!” You insisted, as the blonde prince continued staring at you amusedly.

“Just give it a moment, [Y/N],” he replied.

“You're being absurd,” you disputed, taking a gulp of wine, “I am the picture of sobriety!”

“Perhaps it would be best not to drink any more, [Y/N]?” Balin suggested mildly.

“Balin, Balin, Balin...I am my own woman, I can drink as much as I like!” You insisted, with slightly less clarity than you would have liked.

“I do believe the wine has kicked in,” Fili remarked slyly. You swivelled round to fix him with a fierce stare, though the prince didn't seem remotely fazed or alarmed. In your sudden tipsy stupor, you jabbed your finger in his direction with a disorientated fervour.

 

“You- you shush! I won't have you making witty remarks, you mischievous little dolt!” You chided him. Fili burst out laughing.

“Mahal, the poor lass is gone,” Balin sighed.

“It really works that quickly?” Asked Bilbo, in disbelief.

“Indeed it does, Bilbo, elven wine is stronger than anything any human has likely ever sampled. It's effect on them is rather sudden and very intense,” Fili chuckled, “Our dear [Y/N] is no exception.”

You were trying to focus on the conversation, but instead found yourself staring at Fili's moustache braids.

“Ha...ha ha...Fili, your braids move when you talk...it's really quite mesmerising,” you giggled, gesturing to your upper lip with both pointer fingers.

“My point proven,” Fili said dryly, gesturing to you. You snorted inelegantly.

“Oh no...” Bilbo looked over at you.

 

“Maybe you should consider getting some rest, lass? Before you feel any worse,” Balin said.

“No, I'd rather not!” You protested, “I'd much rather give darling Bilbo a kiss on the cheek. He's the loveliest hobbit you could ever hope to meet!” You rose from your seat and scurried around the table, to throw your arms around the startled hobbit.

“[Y/N], I'm not sure-”

“Hush now, Bilbo, you are too precious for this world,” you cooed lovingly, swaying from side to side.

“That's-that's, well, that's very kind of you to say, [Y/N], but-”

“You're my favourite hobbit!” You sang, pressing a kiss to his cheek and nuzzling into the crook of his neck. A few of the dwarves on your table were chuckling, while Fili was in hysterics. The others, sat upon the table further away, were beginning to take notice of your unusual behaviour (and poor Bilbo's flustered state).

 

“Lass, what are you doing to our burglar?!” Bofur inquired, with a cheery grin.

“I'm showing him some affection!” You stated proudly, running a hand through Bilbo's curls.

“She's drunk!” Dwalin barked.

“Did you lot let her drink the wine?!” Nori called out.

“I am _**not**_ drunk!” You snapped, standing proudly with your arms akimbo. This pretence of showing your faculties to be fully intact was soon discarded, as you stumbled backwards. Fortunately, Fili caught you, throwing an arm around your waist to keep you from tumbling to the ground.

“I've been rescued by a prince,” you giggled, falling into the young dwarf's lap.

 

“[Y/N],” Fili scolded you playfully. You wound your arm around his shoulders to secure your uncertain position.

“You have the finest lap I've ever had the fortune to sit on,” you informed him, absent-mindedly fiddling with one of the braids in his hair, “You have such pretty hair, Fili!” You proclaimed.

“You're much sweeter to me when you're drunk, [Y/N],” Fili chuckled, patting you on the hip affectionately. You laughed flirtatiously, leaning backwards so you were now see-sawing precariously on the dwarf prince's lap.

“That's because I'm so terribly nervous of speaking to handsome men, you and your brother are very difficult for me to handle-” You giggled and snorted in a very unladylike manner, “Though I'd be happy to _**handle**_ the both of you.” You informed him, in a sultry tone, sitting up right and leaning into him.

Fili at least had the decency to look startled.

“Mahal!” Balin despaired.

 

“I'd like to hold onto these moustache braids of yours-” You began, grabbing hold of Fili's braids to demonstrate, “-while your brother _**shoots me with his arrow**_ from behind!”

Kili, who'd obviously heard your drunken musings, choked on his drink.

“[Y/N], I think you could do with a good night's sleep,” Fili urged, carefully prising your hands from his braids.

“No, I need you between my legs giving me a thorough seeing to, not sleep!” You huffed. Many of the dwarves were guffawing heartily at your libidinous admissions.

“That would be....inadvisable,” Fili cleared his throat, giving your hands a light squeeze.

“How so? All I'm asking,” you started to speak, resting your head on his shoulder, “Is for you and Kili to satisfy my filthy, depraved needs.”

“That's not too much to ask for, I'd say,” Bofur piped up cheekily.

 

“I think I need to take my argument to your brother, Fili, you drive a hard bargain!” You stumbled out of his lap and over to the younger Durin son.

The elves were observing this bizarre series of events unfolding before them, with expressions of abject discomfort.

“Kili,” you trilled, hiking up the skirts of your dress far too high for modesty and mounting the lap of the poor young prince, facing towards him, “Kili, your brother is being stubborn as a mule!”

“Um, [Y/N], um-I- you....”

“I see nothing wrong in presenting the suggestion....that you and he ravage me repeatedly-”

“Don't you mean 'ravish'?” Kili inquired, his face coloured pink.

“No, ravage. I want you to be fierce with me, silly dwarf! Pillage my womanly parts with your weapon like I've insulted your bloodline! I want to be walking bow-legged afterwards,” you stated, as though that was perfectly appropriate conversation at a dinner table.

Kili was a stammering, blushing mess, all the while Bofur was hooting hysterically beside you both.

 

“Kili, you look so scandalised,” you noted, voice slurring.

“No, I- I'm just-I just don't think this is...maybe you should go to bed?”

“Only if you agree to come with me, you scrumptious dwarf, you sons of Durin make me wet enough to drown an Orc,” you purred, winding your arms around his neck and nearly pushing your bosom into his face.

“[Y/N]!” Poor Kili protested, flustered by your lecherous behaviour, clutching at your shoulders, “Go to bed, for the love of Mahal!”

“Oh, you're so prim and proper, Kili,” you snuggled against him, “Ah! Ah ha! What have we here?!” You squealed delightedly, as you looked down at the dark haired prince's crotch.

“Oh ho! Small in stature but certainly not small _**there**_!” You said jubilantly; Kili's face had turned an agonising shade of red. The older dwarves had broken out in raucous laughter at the youngest dwarf's embarrassment.

“What in the name of Mahal is going on here?!” Called the authoritative voice of Thorin Oakenshield.

 

The rightful king of Erebor came sweeping over, haughty and regal as ever, vexation lining his handsome face and seeping from every pore. He looked at you, mounted on his youngest nephew in a way that had crossed the line of appropriate behaviour. Or, more aptly, drunkenly _**floundered**_ past the line.

“What is _**this**_?!” Thorin hissed. The laughter of the Company had died down to chilling silence.

“What does it look like?” You challenged the raven haired dwarf.

“The words I have to describe this are ones I would prefer not to use, [Y/N],” he said, “Now-”

“I can sit on your lap, if you'd like that?” You offered.

“ _ **What**_?” Thorin looked absolutely outraged, but in your state, you were completely immune to the power of his ferocity.

“I can sit on your lap, if it would make you happy? Although, I'd personally rather sit on your face,” you told him lasciviously, leaning back and propping your elbows up on the table behind you.

 

Dwalin, who'd taken a gulp of wine, promptly spat it out, spraying poor Bofur with droplets of the very beverage that had led to your inebriated attempts at seduction.

“ _ **What**_?!” Thorin seethed.

“I want to sit on your face,” you repeated, bringing your body forward to sit upright.

You heard Fili curse in Khuzdul.

“Come here! Now!” Thorin seized hold of your arm and dragged you out of his alarmed nephew's lap, “I will not condone this behaviour, [Y/N]! The wine may have addled your senses, but I will not stand to be made a fool of!”

“I'm not-I'm not making a fool of you, I'm just saying I would be...I would be very honoured to have your face between my thighs!” You protested, your words lacking their usual clarity and slowly melding together; a homogeneous mass of inappropriate declarations.

 

Nobody dared to laugh at this point, not when the dignity of their leader was in question. Thorin stared at you, blue eyes cold and piercing.

“You are behaving like a tavern harlot, [Y/N], I suggest you retire to your lodgings for the night,” he reprimanded. Normally, you might have been hurt by such words, but with the elven wine in your body you merely scoffed.

“Oh hush, you pompous arse!” You rallied, “We both know you'd enjoy some quimon your face, you're no different to other men. You walk around, prim and haughty, like you've had a hot iron lodged up your backside- but you'd turn into a slobbering dog if a woman threw her skirts up for you.”

One of the Company snorted loudly, but hurriedly covered it by feigning a coughing fit. Another wheezed, a telltale sign of encroaching laughter, then cleared his throat.

 

Thorin seemed genuinely taken aback by your words, his hardened features softening as his expression slid into astonishment.

“[Y/N], I-”

“Hush, Thorin,” you dared to place a finger against the dwarven leader's lips, “No need for words. I just want that tongue on my nethers.”

Bubbling laughter brewed amongst the dwarves. Thorin was goggling at you, in a manner that was still somehow majestic, but he was goggling nonetheless.

“Fear not, my handsome king, I'll gladly return the favour,” you giggled, “Though I might struggle a bit- from what I gather, you have an _**impressive sword –**_ might be a bit too much for a mouthful, but no matter, because I can use my hands too.” You crooned, twirling a lock of his raven hair around your finger. The brewing laughter erupted into filthy cackling and guffaws.

 

Thorin's face flushed red and he cleared his throat noisily. In battle he was a ferocious, skilled warrior, a leader to his people; faced with a drunken, salacious human woman, however, he was tongue-tied, awkward and endearingly bashful.

“[Y/N], that's-that's hardly appropriate,” he spoke in a gentler tone.

“Life's too short for appropriate,” you trilled, falling against him. The dwarf responded quickly, holding you up in his strong arms. You ran your hands, lacking your sober finesse, across his broad shoulders. “So big and strong...” You murmured.

“[Y/N]?”

“I do believe...that wine has taken effect,” you burbled drowsily, slumping against the dwarf king. You looked up at him with a dimwitted but adoring gaze, “You're absurdly handsome, Thorin. And you have such glorious...such glorious hair.”

These were your final words before unceremoniously slipping into alcohol induced unconsciousness. It was fortunate Thorin had a firm hold of you, because your knees buckled from underneath you and you would have tumbled to the ground had you not been in his arms.

* * *

When you awoke to beautiful sunshine and birdsong- which would have been more enjoyable had your head not felt like it had been cracked open with a war hammer- you found yourself dressed in a nightgown, with the bed covers drawn up to your chest.

With a pained groan, you sat up slowly, feeling groggy.

“Eru save me,” you moaned, resting your throbbing head in your hands. There was a suddenknock on the door to the room you'd been given for the duration of your stay in Rivendell.

“[Y/N]?” Bilbo's mild-mannered voice called.

“Come in, Bilbo, but please be quiet,” you said. As he slowly eased the door open and entered, you groaned once more, “Eru, my head...was I struck by a troll last night?”

Bilbo's expression was very sheepish.

 

“Ah...not quite. That-well...that might have been the elven wine,” he answered meekly.

“The wine...? Did I-did I drink last night? I must have had quite a lot....”

“Not as much as you think. It's, um, it's very...potent stuff,” he told you, perching on the edge of your bed.

“Oh,” was your reply, before it dawned on you, “ _ **Oh**_. Oh no, what did I do?”

“Oh, ah, not...not too much, you were just...in a merry mood. You know, cheerful spirits and what-have-you,” Bilbo lied unconvincingly.

“Bilbo, I know you're lying,” you warned him, mustering as much reproach as you were capable of in your state, “What did I do?”

“Ah, well...you-” The hobbit was interrupted by two young dwarves barging into your room and calling out to you.

 

“[Y/N]! Time to get out of bed, you lazy woman!” Kili chided you.

“Elven wine a bit too much for you, then, eh?” Fili snickered. The both of them leapt onto the bed, practically pouncing on you as you hunkered down into the bed.

“Go away, you pests!” You whined, covering yourself with the bedclothes, head pounding at the ruckus.

“Oh, come now, we thought you'd be happy to see us!” Fili feigned offence, yanking the covers off of you.

“Yes, considering what you said yesterday, we figured you'd be especially enthusiastic about us being on your bed,” Kili smirked, like he knew some sordid secret.

“What? What are you on about?” You demanded, mood soured by your headache and their antics. Bilbo threw the brothers a fierce look- which they both duly ignored. The two Durin sons stared at you momentarily, heads jerking back in surprise, before exchanging looks.

 

“You don't remember what you said to us?” Kili inquired.

“I woke not five minutes ago, Kili, I've not had a chance to reflect upon the events of last night!”

“Oh, this should be interesting,” Fili remarked slyly.

“What should be interesting?”

“Yes, right, I think we should _**all**_ leave and allow [Y/N] to wash and dress in privacy- now come along, the both of you!” Bilbo urged, hoping to get the brothers to move along. Unfortunately for you, Fili and Kili were like excitable dogs who'd gotten hold of bones that they were most vehemently reluctant to let go of.

“You sure you don't remember anything? Not even a little bit, [Y/N]? Perhaps you can recall being sat on my lap?” Fili's mouth curved into a wicked smile. You met his suggestion with a look of contempt.

“Don't be ridiculous, why would I-?” You froze, face falling as bits and pieces from the previous night came back. Horror passed over your face.

 

“There it is, she remembers!” Fili laughed heartily. “You sat on my brother's lap, too, [Y/N], made the poor lad very nervous-”

“Shut up, Fili!” Kili thumped his older brother on the arm.

“You looked like a little maiden, Kili, one who's just been caught with her skirts up,” Fili ruffled his brother's thick, dark hair.

“Did I say anything...I remember saying stuff?” You dared to ask. Bilbo covered his face, groaning in despair.

“You most certainly said some interesting things, [Y/N],” Fili answered, “Finally confessed to finding me painfully good looking- not that I can blame you, mind-”

“ _ **What**_?!” You said shrilly.

“Might have mentioned Kili too, suppose he's not too bad looks-wise-” Fili snickered, grinning as he saw the surly expression on his brother's face, “Then you may just have made some reference to wanting to hold my braids-”

“That's not so bad,” you intervened, in some semblance of gathering the shreds your dignity.

“While I _**shot you with my arrow**_   from behind,” Kili piped up, recovering enormously from the slight to his ego. Whatever remains of your dignity you had were discarded and trampled on by the dark haired prince.

 

“And being the chivalrous dwarf that I am, I suggested you go to bed to sleep off the wine. Judging by your reply, however, it seemed as though you had other activities in mind. Something along the lines of me being between your legs-” Fili grinned, like the cocky little bastard he was.

“ _ **Noooo**_!” You wailed.

“-giving you a good _**seeing to**_ ,” he winked at you.

“I think that's quite enough now!” Bilbo said, flustered, flapping his hands at the brothers to shoo them out of your room.

“But we haven't even gotten to the best parts yet!” Fili argued, intent on not being hurried along by the morally affronted hobbit.

“Speaking of parts, when would you like me to _**pillage your womanly parts**_ , [Y/N]?” Kili smiled lecherously, daring to let his gaze drop down to your more intimate parts, which were hidden by the nightgown and bedclothes, “I'd be delighted to plunder you with my weapon.” He added obscenely.

“Careful, little brother,” Fili warned in a tuneful tone.

You slapped the younger prince across the face for his impertinence.

 

“Can't say you didn't deserve that,” remarked Bilbo dryly, folding his arms across his chest.

“ **You** propositioned **me** , [Y/N]!” Kili whined, rubbing his red, stinging cheek.

“I was _**drunk**_ , you idiot! Oh, and if I can correctly recall, you were hardly the epitome of confidence- blushing and stuttering like you've never had a woman in your lap. So I'll thank you not to be so crass!”

“Crass? How about telling us that the _**sons of Durin make you wet enough to drown an orc**_ , eh? That's not crass, is it?” Kili inquired ruefully, clearly not having taken your words or slap to heart. He was too care-free for that.

“Judging by the stirring in your trousers, you didn't have any complaints,” you shoved him gently. As you expected, Kili's expression turned bashful.

“[Y/N], that's not fair, I mean-I can't help what my body does...it just...it has a mind of its own, see-”

“Right?” You felt the corners of your mouth twitch into a smirk.

 

“You pulled your skirts up! I saw your bare legs, [Y/N], _**your thighs too**_!” Kili argued, feigning innocence, “How's a young dwarf like me supposed to react when....when such a sight presents itself to him?! Hm? Answer me that!”

“Oh well, _**Mahal have mercy on your sweet, pure little soul**_ , Kili!” You replied, words drenched in biting sarcasm, “Eru forbid you should ever catch sight of my naked bosom, lest it incite lustful wickedness...and leave you with a sticky mess in your trousers!”

Fili snorted at this dear brother's expense. Kili, on the other hand, merely huffed and glowered like a petulant child.

“Oh, don't sulk, you silly dwarf! You know I love you,” you sighed, throwing your arms around the dark haired prince and pulling him towards you for a cuddle. Or at least, an approximation of a cuddle, as Kili found his head pillowed by your soft bosom.

It did appear as though all was suddenly forgiven, as he wrapped his arms around your waist and was audacious enough to nestle his the side of his face between your breasts.

 

“[Y/N], if this is an apology, I heartily accept!” He declared, “If you should ever bring me to tears with your words, where else would I be allowed to put my head?”

“You're utter filth, Kili, I swear to Eru,” you laughed, resting your chin atop his head and petting his hair affectionately.

“Why don't I get a hug like that?!” Fili protested bitterly.

“Jealous, brother?” Kili taunted, not moving his head for he was _**very**_ content with where he had it resting.

“You're only affectionate with me when you're drunk,” Fili told you sourly.

“Are you feeling left out, Fili?” You pouted at him, mimicking his dour expression, before reaching up and flicking his moustache braids.

The deadpan look he gave you had you in hysterics.

 

“Come over here, then, Fili. Kili, move over, your brother needs some bosom to lay his head on-” The golden haired dwarf was soon attached to you like a bloody limpet.

“I am...not entirely comfortable with what I'm seeing right now,” Bilbo announced.

“One brother per breast!” You joked, aware that this made for rather bizarre and vaguely disturbing sight, “Thank Eru there's not three of you-”

“Shift over, Kili!”

“No, I'm comfy here!”

“You're hogging [Y/N]'s chest!”

“I got here first, find your own pair to rest your head on!”

“I'm the oldest, so therefore, my claim outweighs yours- now _ **move over**_!”

It was entertaining to watch the siblings bickering over your bosom, but that was quickly interrupted by Thorin appearing at the doorway of your room.

 

“Dare I ask, what is going on here?” He inquired, baritone voice smooth and honeyed.

Both of the dwarf king's nephews immediately sat straight and slid off of your bed.

“Oh, we were just, um, waking [Y/N] up,” Kili explained, rather frantically.

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely!” Fili attested. The brothers couldn't have been less convincing if they'd tried.

“Curious...it looked to me as though you were both attempting to...regress to infancy-” Thorin remarked laconically, raising his thick eyebrows. You snorted into the back of your hand, stifling a shrill peal of laughter. The young princes reddened, duly embarrassed.

 

“Perhaps you should _**all**_ leave [Y/N] to prepare for the day ahead in _**privacy**_?” Thorin directed the suggestion at his nephews and the flummoxed little hobbit who'd come in with good intentions.

“Certainly! Couldn't agree more! Come, Fili and Kili, let's go, shall we?” Bilbo swept around behind Kili, who was closest, and began frog-marching the dwarf towards the door, “Good day to you, [Y/N], I do hope you recover quickly! We'll see you in due course!” He hurriedly bid you farewell, speaking over Kili's protests. “Come along, Fili!”

Fili, baffled by the little hobbit, followed in suit, not necessarily obeying Bilbo but rather wanting to avoid testing his uncle's patience.

You swore you detected a faint glimmer of a smirk on the dwarven king's lips.

As soon as the others had departed, you and Thorin were left in sudden silence. You sat primly and properly in your bed, smoothing out your nightgown nervously.

 

“I do hope you're feeling well this morning? The elven wine seemed to take its toll on you,” he inquired, cutting through the quietude, as he walked at a languid pace over to a nearby table. Upon it rested a beautifully crafted crystal water jug beside an intricately designed goblet. Thorin lifted the jug and poured some of the water into the goblet.

“Oh, I...I'm feeling in reasonably good health. Although, my head is aching like I fought an Orc and came out of the ordeal far worse-” You pressed your palm against your forehead in the hopes of easing the throbbing pain.

“I've no doubt. One has to be cautious when imbibing in elven wine- particularly if you are human, I'm afraid to say,” Thorin chuckled, steadily making his way toward you and holding out the goblet. You took it gratefully, thanking him, and sipped at the refreshing water.

“I think I rather misjudged its potency. And my tolerance, it would seem,” you confessed diffidently

“You'll not be the first nor will you be the last,” Thorin said kindly. You smiled brightly at him, drinking from your goblet of water.

 

“I have...been informed by your nephews...that I was somewhat... _ **less than appropriate**_ yesterday evening,” you began, feeling warmth rise up your neck and spill over your face. Thorin's expression of calm acknowledgement faltered slightly, and he coughed suddenly, clearing his throat.

“Ah, well, that can't be helped. The wine can impede the faculties, it's to be expected-you needn't concern yourself with such matters,” he dismissed lightly. You set your goblet down on the ornate bedside table.

“I can't help but concern myself, I said some very lewd things, according to Fili and Kili. I...I sincerely apologise if I offended you at any point, Thorin,” you reached out to touch his arm. He didn't move it away.

“[Y/N], it's as I said, you needn't worry. I was not offended at any point yesterday,” he assured you.

“Please, you've no obligation to spare my feelings. I know I was...considerably less inhibited in expressing certain-” you stalled, face burning, “-desires.”

Thorin's face tinged a faint shade of red.

 

“I merely meant...I wasn't insulted by your words, [Y/N], just surprised. You were very... _**bold**_ ,” he admitted. You took your hand off of his arm and clutched at your bedclothes, reeling from the implications of Thorin's words.

“Oh, Eru, I am so, truly sorry, Thorin. What did I say to you?”

“You're still feeling unsettled by my nephews' recollection of the evening, I assure you you weren't offensive-”

“I said something utterly obscene to you, didn't I?” You cast him a most forlorn look.

“It was nothing, truly,” he insisted.

“Oh no!” You whined.

 

“[Y/N], please, don't fret!” He lay a hand on your shoulder, “You simply expressed a desire to...engage in particular intimate acts-”

“What? What kind of acts?”

That was perhaps the moment you noticed Thorin realise he'd firmly lodged his foot in his mouth, as he wordlessly cursed himself.

“You, perhaps, might have mentioned wanting to...use my, ah, my face for a certain purpose,” he said stiffly. You gaped at him in mortification.

“No! No no no no!” You cried, covering your face in shame.

“It doesn't matter, [Y/N], you were under the effects of wine!”

“That really doesn't make me feel any better,” you whined.

 

" _ **Mahal**_ ," Thorin muttered to himself. Then, as if to offer some form of consolation, he said a shade too blithely, "It wasn't quite so horrendous, you did very kindly offer to return the aforementioned oral pleasure-"

" _ **I did what**_?!"

"I deeply regret saying that," Thorin sighed.

"Eru strike me down and save me from this humiliation," you wailed dramatically, flopping down onto the bed and moaning in pure despair.

"[Y/N], please, you had no control over your words. You were...just behaving more provocatively because your mind was blurred-"

"Provocatively?! Thorin, I propositioned you. I offered to give you-" You made a flailing gesture between your mouth and towards his groin, "-and I requested that I use your face for my own personal satisfaction! That's slightly more than 'behaving provocatively'!"

 

"Would it offer some small comfort to you to know that you referred to me as 'absurdly handsome'?" Thorin ventured hopefully. You lifted your face from the bedclothes and cast him a doleful expression.

"Perhaps...that's not so vulgar, I suppose," you remarked.

"You also paid me one of the greatest compliments a dwarf can hope to receive. You said I had 'glorious hair'. I was more than a touch flattered," he smiled at you.

"You were?" You sat up again, feeling rather more redeemed than you had done following his previous attempts at soothing you.

"Indisputably so," Thorin concurred, relieved that you appeared happier, as he slowly settled himself down on the edge of your bed, "I like to think that those kind compliments were from you, feeling slightly more emboldened by the drink. The previous remarks were nothing more than unfortunate side effects. If you wish to see a true example of 'vulgar', just observe Bofur after he's had several tankards of ale. I'm certain you'll feel much better about your own minor antics."

You laughed at the friendly jibe.

 

"Although, not to say I wasn't also vaguely flattered by your previous remarks..." Thorin broached the subject cautiously. Your head jerked backward in unaffected surprise.

"I mean, of course, I wouldn't have...accepted such offers...whilst you were in that state, of course, that would have been completely reprehensible-" he added hastily, "Simply put, I did not expect you to have such...desires for myself... if those remarks did have some degree of truth in them, of course-" Thorin, the mighty dwarven warrior and king of Erebor, blushed scarlet.

"In truth, Thorin, whilst sober, thoughts of acting on those desires have crossed my mind on more than a few occasions," you admitted shyly. Thorin made a strange, choked noise as he quickly rose from the bed, straightening his fur-collared overcoat and adjusting it in a strategic manner that covered his lower body.

"Ah, well- I'm extremely flattered, [Y/N]. I- I should give you some privacy! Leave you to prepare for the day ahead! I'll see you in due course," he bade you farewell, awkwardly, so very unlike his usual quiet confidence. The raven haired dwarf strode hurriedly towards the door.

 

"Oh, I- but..." you stammered, not wanting him to leave quite so soon. Thorin hovered by the door, and seemed to take a moment to consider his next actions.

"I apologise in advance if this seems forward, [Y/N], but rest assured-" he cleared his throat, and glanced at you over his shoulder, "-I wouldn't protest if you wished to act upon your desires."

You stared at Thorin, agog.

"In fact, I might go so far as to say that I would actively encourage it," said Thorin in that heavenly baritone voice. You were now dangerously close to gawking at him.

"Ah...you mean..."

"I mean to say that I'd be very content with receiving and _**particularly**_ enthusiastic in _**giving**_...whatever you might desire of an evening," Thorin explained, the faintest hint of a smirk upon his lips, "Now, I should leave you to wash and dress yourself for the day ahead. Good day to you, [Y/N], I do hope you're feeling much better," he added, with that touch of jaunty wickedness you so often saw in his nephews, before exiting your room suavely.

_**That sly bugger**_ , was all you could think.


End file.
